


Go West!

by Otava



Category: Ripper Street
Genre: 1850's medical care, 1850s, Alternate Universe - Western, F/M, Gen, No shame, Saloon, The Wild West, What Was I Thinking?, i used wikipedia, sherif, so accurate, trying to include all the characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-09-07 20:22:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8814976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Otava/pseuds/Otava
Summary: Ripper Street re-imagined as a western.Drifter, Homer Jackson, gets roped into being White Chapel's doctor after he strikes a deal with the town's Chief Sheriff, Edmund Reid.





	1. September 12th, 1849.

**Author's Note:**

> I watched a really shitty western and it made me angry so I wrote this slightly less shit fanfic.

California, September 12th, 1849.

It was nearing nightfall when Homer Jackson decided to sneak out of the tent he had pitched atop a small ridge and go to the nearby river to look for gold. Logically, he knew that he shouldn’t be doing this, trespassing; but he was desperate and people around the area had been quite lucky with discovering gold in the past week. 

He, himself, had only arrived in the area two days earlier and had been surveying the working men of one particular stake of land ever since. There were three of them in total and it appeared that they would work all day and retire as soon as it darkened outside. 

Jackson now moved to the usual spot where he watched the men. After a little bit of waiting, the sun completely disappeared beyond the horizon. The three men walked away from their land and to their camp for the night as they always did. 

Their silhouettes disappeared into the dark shadows and their voices got fainter. Now was his chance.

He waited for 30 more minutes, until it was fully dark out and he was sure that they wouldn't be coming back. Then, Jackson lit the lamp he had brought along with him and began his descent down to the river bend. The site was completely empty and the location was hidden enough so that nobody passing by would be able to see him. A pan was left behind by the previous occupants so Jackson picked it up, dipped it in the sluice box and began working. 

Time passed slowly, Jackson's eyes shifted at every little sound nearby, absolutely terrified of being discovered. 

His chances of being found out were low, he reasoned with himself, this was the best location for the fact that it was far away from other sites and secluded. Besides he had been careful. The whole night he worked and hadn’t had much luck save a few specs of the precious metal which he promptly put into a small bag in his breast pocket. 

After a less than fulfilling night, it was beginning to get light outside, so he decided to head back to his tent. The journey back took a short hike. When he reached his accommodations, he collapsed in his makeshift bed, tired to the bone.

His heavy eyelids were just closing when his smelt smoke. His eyes shot open and he looked over to see the corner of his tent on fire. Hurriedly, he grabbed his few earthly belongings and rushed out of his temporary home as fast as he could. His instinct was to try to stamp out the fire but the bright light of the morning sun threw him off. 

When he recovered and tried to make his way to the burning tent, there were three men standing in his way. The three men whose stake he had been working at all night long.

“How’dy do, boys?” he said smiling. “The strangest thing just happend. It appears my tent caught fire. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about- Omph!”

The burliest of the men punched him square in the stomach. 

“Good mornin’ to you too, princess,” he said regaining his composure. He was then hit again. This time, stumbling into the fire that was now ablaze below him. He jumped out of it but was tripped by the shortest of the men on his way out of the flames.

“You know why we’re here, correct?” asked the middle man, holding Jackson on the ground with his foot.

“No, but if yer willing to explain to me why, I'd be happy enough to listen,” he said with a toothy grin.

“We saw you leavin’ our stake this mornin’. Your boot tracks lead us here.”

“I simply went for a morning walk, gentlemen.”

“I don’t think so,” the man sneered. “I’m sure you know what happens to claim jumpers in these parts.”

“Yes. But I ain’t a claim jumper; simply a traveler on my way to visit my dear sick sister.”

“I find that hard to believe. Check his pockets, boys!” The shortest man quickly rooted through Jackson’s pockets and found a small amount of gold he had placed in his bag. There were also a few coins and trinkets they found, but thankfully Jackson kept his actual money in his shoe.

“I know this evidence looks damning but-” Jackson was cut off to a boot to the face. All the men began kicking at him while he lay on the ground. When they were finished, they took turns spitting on him. Jackson thought they were done, but oh no, one of them grabbed a rope that he had brought along and tied him up.

“A stay in the county jail might do him some good,” one man said to another.

“Yeah. They might even hang him,” another man chuckled.

“It’s still early enough to intercept the mail coach. Let’s hurry and get him on it, boys.”

“Wha-” before he could say anything, Jackson was gagged and forced to walk down the path with them. He was miserable, sore and bleeding but he walked along the road anyway. If he didn’t, they would kick him. 

The men somehow managed to intercept the mail coach and explained the situation to the driver. Jackson was then roughly packed onto the vehicle and he was shuttled away like cargo. After over two hours of traveling the bumpy road they arrived in town. Jackson knew this because the road began to smooth out and he heard voices and people bustling around. The ride had been terrible, but the bleeding stopped. 

Soon, he was let out of the carriage and manhandled by a tough looking man with a sheriff's badge. He was only an inch or so taller than Jackson himself but he looked way more intimidating. He also looked incredibly tired and sad.

He was lead to a small cell and locked up in it. The man set at his desk and took out a newspaper. 

“You gonna untie me?” Jackson asked.

The man looked up from his newspaper and spoke tiredly. “Will do that upon Sheriff Reid’s orders. In the meantime, good luck.” He resumed his reading.

“Listen here, Uh-”

“Drake,” the man spoke.

“Listen here, Drake. I’ll have you know that I was falsely accused and imprisoned.”

Drake sighed, “Sir, this isn’t even my usual job: watching the prisoners and such. The lad who usually does this is out of town visiting family. You will have to take this issue up with Mr. Reid comes back. He is on business at the moment, so it might be awhile. Now, can you please let me read this newspaper and shut up.”

“If it will help with my case, sure I will.”

They sat in silence for 45 minutes. 

“Sooooo. If this isn't your normal job what do you usually do?” Jackson spoke.

“I’m a Deputy Sheriff. Second in command.”

“Oh. When’s the other guy coming back? The top guy, I mean.”

“It’s hard to say. There was a large dispute that required most of our men. I’m here to mind the shop with a few others.”

“I see, I see.”

“White Chapel gets rather chaotic around this time of the year,” Drake offered.

“White Chapel, you say? I’ve heard of it, but never been. Until now that is,” Jackson said as he paused trying to think of the town on the map. It was a big one and more importantly not near other towns at all. Escaping would be hard but not impossible. “Do you think you can untie me? I have to take a piss.”

Drake looked at him accusingly.

“I promise I won't try anything funny, Mr. Drake, Sir.”

He sighed, but Drake got up and asked him to lean against the cell. He produced a large knife from out of his pocket and cut the rope. 

_‘Yup. This man is incredibly intimidating,’_ Jackson thought as he concealed the weapon again. He rubbed at his hands and areas where the rope had been trapping him then relieved himself in a bucket in the corner.

Drake went back to his newspaper and then yawned and allowed himself to fall asleep.

Jackson paced around the cell. It would be easy to escape now if he wanted to, but he had no idea exactly how far the surrounding town would be, or the direction to go. He also had little money. Thankfully, Drake was the only one in the town who knew his face and it would be easy to sneak out if only he could find something to pick the lock with. The cell was immaculate and didn't offer much but nobody had bothered to search him and there was a lot on his person that could help him escape. Jackson found a few bits of metal out of his belongings that he could work with.

Quietly, he reached out of the door and stuck the metal bits in the lock as quietly as possible. Drake didn’t stir, so he allowed himself to be a little rougher with the bits. Lock-picking was something that he had been practicing since childhood. His older brother had taught him the valuable skill that proved to come in handy time and time again. He heard a click but the door still didn’t open. He tried reaching his hands out further but then he heard heavy footsteps and the door to the room swung open. A tall man walked in followed by a handful of other men.

“Bennet, wake up,’ he boomed. Jackson hid the pieces of metal in his pockets and casually leaned against the door. The tall man seemed not to take any notice of him. and hadn’t seen what Jackson was up to.

“Bennet,” he started again. “It appears that three of our citizens have met their makers today.”

“Sir?”

“The doctor. He got into a disagreement with one of the nearby landowners and his life was taken. We settled his score, however. Two men are now dead with only one of our men injured in the shootout that occurred.”

“Who was injured, Sir?”

“Thatcher. He assures me that is was just a graze, however, and he said that he would be fine.”

“That’s good. But what a shame about the doctor. Our only one too.”

“Indeed. He was a fine man and an adequate doctor. I’m positive that we’ll find a replacement soon.”

“I can take a look at your man,” Jackson interrupted.

“Excuse me, who are you exactly?” Reid inquired rudely.

“Homer Jackson. I was arrested and imprisoned falsely. Oh, and I also happen to be a doctor.”

“Do you now? You’re not just saying that to get in my good graces and escape are you? I’ve heard every excuse in the book..”

“Afraid not, I was an Army Surgeon.”

“Really?” Reid raised an eyebrow.

“Let me take a look at your man,” Jackson said again.

“It couldn’t hurt, Sir,” Drake said, turning to Reid.

Reid sighed then agreed, and motioned to a man who had a bandage tied tight around his arm. He looked pale and miserable. “Untie it,” Reid ordered the injured man. He winced in pain as he did so. Jackson peeked at the wound through the bars and it didn’t look good.

“By any chance, were the people shooting at you firing a buckshot.”

Reid straightened his back with realization at this. “Indeed, Sir.”

“I think he has fragments embedded in him. You need to get me a medical toolkit and some hot water. Also something for the man to bite down on if he needs it.”

Somehow, they quickly managed to get him what he needed. Jackson suspected that it was the old doctor’s toolkit that they had brought him. He sliced the wound open for better access and dug through the flesh to pull out the little pellets embedded deep into this skin. Reid was watching him work closely the whole time. Everyone else had their eyes averted. Jackson poured the last of his alcohol from his flask around his neck out on the wound and then cleanly stitched and bandaged it up.

“It seems that you do, in fact, know what you are doing, Sir. Thank you,” Reid said when Jackson was finished.

“Not a problem and ‘Jackson’ is just fine, not ‘Sir’. Now about my release…”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Reid said with a small grin. “I need you to hold on a little longer while I work some things out...” He looked at the cell’s lock. “And one more thing, Jackson. If you try to attempt to escape again, you will not be getting off so easily. I’d advise that next time you attempt escaping somewhere that you don’t leave scuff marks around the lock.” With that, Reid turned around and walked into the adjoining room with Drake.

Jackson placed his head on the bars and laughed, “Shit.”

Drake returned for him with a set of keys about an hour later. “Mr. Reid will see you now.”

The cell door swung open and out walked Jackson, almost a free man. He just had to play it cool and then he’d be on his way, traveling his way through America once more. 

Reid’s office was neat and orderly with a lot of file cabinets and papers filling up the whole space. “Won’t you sit down?” he asked. Jackson grabbed the chair across the desk and sat. “You say that you’re an army surgeon. Of which regiment did you say?”

“I didn’t.” Jackson said. “But I was honorably discharged almost two years ago when the war ended. Did you serve, Mr. Reid?”

“No, I did not. Mr. Drake did however, perhaps you two may have met?”

“I don’t think we did. Where are you going with this, If I may ask?”

The man adjusted in his seat. “As you are well aware, we have lost our town’s doctor today...”

“Yes..”

“And-” Reid began.

“And you want me to replace him? Not interested. Sorry.”

“Temporarily,” Reid said. “I want you to replace him temporarily until we find someone else to fill the spot. You can consider it payment for me not charging you of a very serious crime.”

“Serious crime?! How long would I have to work to repay my debts?”

“No longer than a month, I should think.”

“A month! No way. I refuse.”

“Or I can easily have you hanged. I am a reasonable man, Jackson. Are you? ”

“I am…” Jackson paused. “When do I start?”

“Tomorrow. I’m assigning a man to stay by you at all times in case you decide to skip town but he isn’t returning to town until tomorrow. In the meantime I don’t think a night in the cells will hurt. I’ll have Bobby bring you some food soon. Good day.”

Jackson was lead back to the cell and he lay on the small cot. This guy, Edmund Reid knew all the tricks. He had no choice but to stay. Even if he ran away, the man would probably track him down somehow. He seemed like the type to do so. All Jackson could do was grit his teeth and comply to this request. Perhaps he would even learn to like it. It would be nice to stay in the same place for an extended period of time again.

The sun was setting and Jackson watched the rays of light from the window slowly disappear then vanish. He felt alone in the dark and wanted nothing more than a drink from his trusty flask to cure himself of the familiar loneliness but he had used the last of it as a disinfectant. The town outside seemed to be bustling with people from the sound of it. Jackson had no idea, visually, how the town looked. Given the size of the police station it was probably rather crowded. 

“Dinner” came and it consisted a small bowl of soup and a small square of cornbread. It hurt to eat due to the beating he had received earlier. He ate the food and then went back onto the cot. It had been the best meal he’d eaten in weeks, he thought as he fell asleep.


	2. September 13th, 1849.

It was early morning, when the same individual whose wound Jackson had treated the other day woke him up and finally lead him out of the cell. He looked tired, miserable and irritable. But he had been shot yesterday, after all.

“Right this way, if you will. I am to escort you to the deceased Doctor’s former lodgings.”

“How’s the arm?” Jackson inquired, trying to break the rigid formality of the interaction. He was still sore from the beating he had received yesterday and was incredibly filthy with; sweat, dirt, and blood as well. The young constable’s mood wasn’t helping him.

“It’s much better, thanks,” Thatcher said fondly. His face soon turned back to the look of unease and pain.

“You’re going to want to be keeping an eye on that. If it's giving you any trouble, pain or looks strange, I want you to come and visit me straight way. Understand?”

“Yes, Sir. I understand. Now will you step, right this way, Sir.” Thatcher guided Homer Jackson out of the building and down the street. After about 10 minutes of walking, they reached their intended destination. “Here it is.” The building looked nice and clean enough from the outside. The paint was worn with age and sun but all the shingles and planks were in place. They entered the building and there, in the middle of the room, the floor was covered with a large red stain in the middle of a carpet. 

“Oh.” Thatcher gasped.

“Guess the police station doesn't have any good maids in their employ.”

“Sorry-”

“Worry not, I’ll clean it up myself. It might get me more familiar with this place in the process. I will be needing some help, however, and you aren't fit enough to help me from the looks of it.”

“Hobbs should be here soon.”

“The guy that's going to be my babysitter while I’m forced to to Reid’s bidding, you mean?”

“Yes, that's the one.”

“Riiiight. Well, I’m going to take a look-see upstairs. Care to join me?” Thatcher followed him up the flight that lead to a loft, wincing along the way. The doctor’s personal room was crowded with books and such and looked very lived-in, crowded and messy.“This man, the doctor who died, he dosen’t have any family to come and collect his things?” 

“No. He had no family or relations that we knew of. He was an ageing man too…”

“I see.” Jackson picked up one of the textbooks one the table and flipped through it. The man had collected quite a few things throughout the years. Jackson looked through a few more things and then went back down to the parlor and then into the room with all the medical supplies. There he found sufficient cleaning materials for the mess that was on the floor. Sometime between looking at the medical supplies and returning to the room with the bloodstain, Thatcher had left, which was a relief but now there was a young and tall boy in the room looking at him. “What do you want kid? We’re closed until I get this mess cleaned up,” he gestured to the floor. “Now get.”

“Um. No, Sir. My name is Hobbs. I’m here to watch over you for the time being.”

“You? You can’t possibly be even old enough to enlist!”

“I’m 19, Sir.” The boy looked offended but was trying to remain professional.

“Okay, Mr. Hobbs. What do you say you help me move this furniture out of the way so we can get to the carpet?”

“Okay, Sir.”

“Sir is too formal. Jackson. You can call me Jackson or Homer if you want. That’s fine.”

“Okay, ‘Jackson,’” he smiled softly.

The two got to work. First moving all the furniture into the corners and then deciding that some of it had to be placed outside, temporarily, in order for them to clean up the mess. Once the furniture issue was settled, they rolled up the rug and chucked it outside with the other stuff. It was a big effort to get everything moved out. There would be no way they could get that stain removed; they would have to burn it. The floor on the other hand was another story; it would be salvageable with some elbow grease. Jackson scrubbed at the spot until it was more or less clean. Then he and Hobbs sanded it down.

“Looks good as new,” Jackson said proudly. He hadn’t planned on putting that much effort into cleaning a place he would only be staying at for a month or so but he couldn’t help it once he had gotten started. A sense of pride filled him and a small smile spread across his face at the possibility of living in a place other than a tent for the first time in awhile. “Want to set fire to the rug now?”

Hobbs looked exhausted but nodded. He really had no say in the matter either way. Jackson went back into the supplies room and a grabbed fast burning flammable liquid for the rug. They shoved the rug into the middle of the wide dirt road and lit it on fire. It burned for itself out then they stamped the remaining bits, most of it gone as ash.

They left the remaining bits where they were. It was near dusk and Jackson had been too preoccupied to eat much besides various scraps he found around the house. There was no sense in letting perfectly good food spoil, besides, the place was _his_ now. “You did some good work today, kid. Now where can we get ourselves something to eat and drink around here?”

“There’s a saloon down the block that way.” Hobbs pointed to the left. “And there's a inn and bakery shop that way in the other direction not that far from here.” 

“I can wait on the food for now. I think we must pay a visit to the saloon first.”

“We?” Hobbs gulped.“I’m not much of a drinker...”

“You will be by the time I’m done with ya! You have to come to make sure I won’t escape, right?”

“Right.”

They didn’t bother to put the rest of the furniture back inside but instead headed straight to the saloon. As soon as they stepped inside, Jackson felt at home. No matter where he was, a saloon was always a saloon. They were a universal staple in any town in the west. Hobbs shrunk back towards his side while Jackson walked in there like he owned the place. Soon he ran into the person who actually owned the place: a woman called Long Susan ‘Hart’.

Ms. Hart had been living in White Chapel for a few years and during that time she established both a reputable salon and a reputable whore house in the upstairs rooms of her establishment. 

When she saw Homer Jackson come in the building with the jr. deputy, Hobbs, her eyes immediately narrowed. The boy was fine but there was something unsettling about the new man who walked in; something not to be trusted. He looked dirt, scruffy and also had dried blood all over his clothes and skin. Anyhow, that wasn’t what made him suspicious.

Up to the counter he came and ordered himself and the young man a drink. The two sat at the bar; it seemed he appeared to be watching her as well. 

He noticed her gaze on him and decided to do something about it so he introduced himself, extending his hand to her. “Homer Jackson. I’m new in town I’ll be the Doctor for the time being.”

“Charmed,” Susan said, taking his hand apprehensively. The stranger then put her hand to his lips and she pulled away sharply. He looked like a sad, kicked puppy when she did so. “If you’re in want of affection, I have some girls that that can tend to that.”

“And what about yourself? How much?”

She pressed her lips together and said, “Sir. I am Miss Susan, the madam and proprietor of this establishment. I’m sure the boy there has told you as such.”

“No.” Jackson said through gritted teeth. “He hadn't. My apologies, Madam.” His cheeks reddened 

She smiled slyly at his genuine embarrassment. “Well, if you have need of anymore of my services do let me know. If not, I have customers to tend to. Good day, gentlemen.”

“Good Day,” Jackson tipped his hat. When she was at the other side of the bar he hissed at Hobbs, “Goddammit. Why didn’t you tell me she was the madam! Now I’ve gone and offended her and made a fool of myself at the same time. I plan to be at this saloon a lot, I’ll have you know.”

“Sorry,” Hobbs blushed, “I thought you knew.”

“How could I know if this is my first time in here, Hobbs?” Like Susan, Jackson too had to laugh a bit at this whole situation. He had just assumed she was purchasable and hadn’t bothered asking the most important question upfront. She was just so damn cute he didn't have time to think. It was really himself he should be blaming. Hobbs looked into his glass; he was clearly embarrassed about the whole situation so Jackson put a hand on his shoulder, feeling bad for the kid. “It’s fine. It’s my fault. You have to admit, however, that Miss Susan is amazingly beautiful. You can see why I thought she was a you-know-what, right?”

“I guess that she _is_ quite pretty,” Hobbs agreed shrugging.

At that moment, Susan looked over at them over her shoulder and smiled. Jackson smiled back.

Since it was only his first night in town, Jackson decided against hiring a whore for the night and left the saloon with Hobbs in tow after a few more drinks. They stopped by the bakery for a portable bite to eat and walked around the town some more. Hobbs was quick to point out the various shops and people's occupations to Jackson. It was a rather large town, apparently the biggest one for miles. This was good because many people came in and out daily meaning there was always a fresh abundance of produce and crops always available from the travelers, farmers and ranchers in the surrounding areas.

“They’re also planning to build a here railroad soon,” Hobbs announced proudly when they reached the point where he had nothing more to point out.

“That’s very nice. But I’m sure that will mean more work for you and the Sheriff then. He doesn't seem as if he would appreciate more ‘shifty vagabonds’ like myself here in his town.”

“True. But we’re good at our job and he is a good judge of character. He wouldn't let them stay if they were bad news.”

“How is it that the Doctor is dead then? Since Reid is so good at his job, that is.”

“To tell you the truth, Sir...the doctor wasn’t very good at his job. Mr. Reid claimed he didn’t know what he was doing on many occasions. Science and medicine is a hobby of his, you see. When we get injured, he usually tends to our minor wounds himself. He’s no expert, but all of us trust him more than the doctor. He doesn't know how to deal with some ailments and injuries at all. I think the some of the other citizens agreed with him about the doctor and got upset. The person who shot him lost his son due to the doctor’s quackery.”

“And then you guys shot him to death?”

“He shot at us first when we went to his farm to confront him, or so I am told. He used his wife as a shield. “

“I heard three people died that day. Did his wife-”

“No. but that’s correct three people died. The man had a son who was in the shootout as well. He shot himself after we killed his father.”

“How do you know all of this? I thought you were out of town?”

“I was told of it when I went to the station today. This was also when I was informed that I would be watching over you for the time being to see if you could be trusted. It was a busy half hour.”

“And can I? Be trusted.”

“I think Mr. Reid want’s me to stay with you for a few days before he decides if you can.” Hobbs paused thoughtfully. “But you seem like a good person to me, if that makes you feel better.”

Jackson chuckled. “You're just a kid. I’m not sure if you are as good of a judge of character as Reid. Remember, he assigned someone to me for a reason. Now that you have your guard down I can slit your throat in the night.”

Hobbs whitened and Jackson laughed at his expression. “Don’t worry. I’m not the murdering type. You saw how long it took us to clean up that mess. Really, I don’t plan on making your job too difficult. It's easier if I pay my time and then go on my way. I definitely won't do anything like kill you in the night or escape. You seem like you have a good head on your shoulders and a lot of potential and I don’t want to get you demoted or anything. Besides, it's too much effort and there are too many lawmen in this town.”

“Thanks,” Hobbs’s voice wavered. Jackson immediately regretted his little joke.

* * *

The two returned to the murdered doctor’s old building and cleaned up some more of the mess they had made earlier. It was cold outside, so they lit a fire in the fireplace then they were done. 

“I don’t need your help anymore,” Jackson threw Hobbs a book from the shelf. “I’m going to take inventory and label or relabel some of these chemicals and materials. The previous tenant was not organized at all.” 

Hobbs read through the medical book while Jackson reorganized the shelves and cleaned the tools putting them back in a logical place. He cleaned for hours and then started reading some of the old patient files. It felt good to be in a place like this again, he thought. There were already a handful of patients he would have to call on in the next few days from the looks of it. Fortunately, nobody in the town seemed to be severely ill or in need of immediate treatment. Surprisingly enough, Reid's name had been on the registry a few times in the last year alone although Hobbs claimed that the man didn’t agree with the deceased doctor’s practices. The deceased doctor didn’t have many notes on him and it looked as if he had only been the town’s doctor for a few years himself. Some notes from the doctor before him seemed to be missing too. 

Drake, Thatcher and Hobbs’s name also appeared in the logs dating back over a few decades. The writing changing every now and then when there was a new doctor in town. Susan’s name only appeared from 1845 and on and she appeared to be rather healthy besides her first visit.

It was completely dark by the time Jackson was done reading about all the towns folks juicy medical secrets and the candle he had lit earlier had almost burned down to the wick. It was time to turn in for the night. Hobbs was asleep on the table besides him with a considerable dent in the medical book which made Jackson smile. 

After covering Hobbs with a blanket, Jackson went upstairs to the room he would be staying in for a few weeks. His room. He took with him a pot of hot water that he had boiled on the fireplace below and finally cleaned himself up; scrubbing hard at the dried blood and dirt that had been on his body for over 48 hours. His body was already sporting dark bruises from the beating he had received yesterday. 

He looked at himself in the doctor’s mirror. It had been the first time he’d seen his own reflection in a long while and he didn’t like what he saw. His hair and face were both unattractively scruffy and overgrown. Jackson found the doctor’s set of razors and began cutting his hair and trimming his beard down to a simple sideburn and mustache combo. When he was done he smiled in the mirror, it reminded him of his old self. The one that he hadn’t seen in awhile. Following his shave, he changed the blankets on the bed out for new ones and plopped down on the new covers. The bed was nice and it’s softness lulled him to sleep seconds later.


	3. September 14th, 1849.

It was unusually early when he awoke, and for a second, he was utterly confused as to where he was. Then, he remembered: he was sleeping in a deadman’s bed and doing a dead man’s job to save his own goddamned miserable life. It was the job he used to do back in the army, being a doctor, and a job that he had long given up for the prospects of wealth and gold on the new frontier.

Jackson put on his stale and bloodied clothes from the previous day and walked down the stairs to the sitting room. There, he found Hobbs asleep on the couch, where his feet hung over the edge due to his notable height. He decided against waking him up for the moment and instead went to the storeroom to find himself something to eat. There were a few canned goods and some eggs that he decided to cook up on the little stove. 

Hobbs soon woke up and quickly scrambled into the room once he smelt the eggs cooking.

“Good Morning, Princess. Ready to be put to work again?” 

Hobbs looked surprised when he looked upon Jackson’s face and saw Jackson clean shaven and groomed for the first time. “Yeah, what are we doing today?” Hobbs answered. 

Jackson wanted to laugh. All the boy was supposed to be doing was watching over him, yet he had willingly offered to help him with every task he did and then some. “I was thinking of keeping with the doctor’s regular rounds. There’s a few people who were expecting him to come around the other day and today. Seven people. I’m going to need for you to help me locate them since I don’t know the area as well as you do. I have their place of residence on these slips of paper. We best head out soon while the day is young.”

“Okay,” Hobbs yawned. His eyes were red and he still looked tired; so he rubbed at them, helplessly.

“Come on, It’s not that early!” Jackson snarled a little.

“I know. It’s just that I don’t drink quite that much very often.”

“Oh, you mean at the saloon last night? Sorry. Next time just tell me you need to stop.”

Hobbs smiled and began washing two dirtied plates for them to eat off of. “That book I read last night was really interesting, from the bits I could remember. I’ve never read an actual medical book before.”

“Was it?”

“Oh yes. I didn’t understand all of it and couldn’t focus exactly, but it sure was interesting. I’d like to read some more on my downtime, if you’d allow it.”

“Go right ahead. You might even learn a few things from it along with traveling around with me for a bit.”

“I grew up on a farm,” Hobbs smiled nostalgically, “so I know a little bit of the subject already. My father was sort of like the town’s veterinarian a long time ago. He knew all about animals and how to care for them. More than anyone else. He taught me about it when he could.” The boy paused in his thoughts.“I think Mr. Reid knew I would be interested in learning more about medical care and that's why he assigned me to you. I’m always looking over his shoulder when he was doing science, chemistry, and such. He’s probably happy to be rid of me for a while, to be truthful.”

Jackson noticed how Hobbs’s face betrayed him with a tinge of hurt but decided to ignore that small self deprecating comment. “He does chemistry? Reid?”

“Well, he sometimes tries to use science to solve crimes. I know it sounds strange, but it does work on occasion.”

“No. I think I understand. I’ve seen it done before. Did he have any formal training?”

“I don’t know. He went to school longer than most people and he likes to read a lot. He also has a lot of books and teaches himself most of the things.”

“He sounds like an interesting man.”

“Yes, he is. He’s almost always doing something with his time. I don’t think he likes being idle. I rather look up to him and hope to be like him someday,” Hobbs beamed.

“Reid can do nothing wrong in your eyes, it seems. He is but only a man afterall, you must well know…”

Hobbs bit his lip in defense “Yes, he is. But he has a lot on his shoulders. The whole town. He does his best even if he isn’t all well and perfect. I can’t blame him. He has good judgment. Even I’ve even had to do some pretty terrible things for this job.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

The boy stayed quiet with an apologetic smile as he handed Jackson the clean plates for their meal.

* * *

They ate quickly and then got ready to head out. Jackson packed a bag with medical supplies that he thought that he would need and Hobbs went outside to get the doctor’s small horse drawn wagon set up so they could travel around the town and neighboring farmhouses with ease.

The first person they went to visit was an elderly man by the name of Abel Croker, Hobbs was quick to inform Jackson that he ran the town’s trading post and was quite the businessman. 

“He’s frightening!” Hobbs told him as the drew nearer to the building.

“Let’s see about that,” Jackson challenged

They pulled up to the building and tied down the horse. “Good Morning, Mr. Croker. I heard you might be needing a check-up for some broken bones in your hand?”

“Who are you?” he asked accusingly, looking up from his gigantic logbook.

“The new doctor. Well, for the time being, anyway. The old guy’s records say that you broke your hand in a few places less than a week ago. I’m here to see how it’s healing up.”

“I have no need of your services, sir. It’s healing up just fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I've been medicating with some of the herbs I have in my shop. I have no need of you or your services." The man’s tone was as harsh, as was his voice was coarse.

"Just because you don't have pain doesn't mean that there ain’t a problem," Jackson sighed. "There may still be an underlining issue or the bone may not be healing as it should. Please, if I may..."

Reluctantly, Mr. Croker presented his hand to Jackson who examined it with firm yet careful touch. "It seems to be healing along just fine, but I’ll need to wrap it a little neater and tighter than you now have it. You also will be needing to _try_ and keep off of it."

"I have to work, Doctor."

"Alright, I'll wrap it so you can still use the fingers," Jackson offered. The man nodded and Jackson applied the bandage and splint once more. 

Croker flexed and narrowed his eyes as Jackson finished. "That feels much better."

"You still have to be careful with it, though. If you exert yourself too much you can damage your hand further and you’ll have to see me again."

“Fine.” Croker handed him some coin and then told him to 'get the hell out.'

Hobbes and Jackson saddled back up. "I think he likes you," Hobbs jested.

"Really, now?" Jackson raised a questioning eyebrow. "He seemed a tad hostile, if you ask me."

"Yes. He's generally a cranky man. Do you have any idea how he broke his hand?"

"I have my suspicions," Jackson chuckled.

"He broke a man's nose, jaw, and knocked a few teeth out. He held him against the wall and then broke his leg and left him on the floor."

"What did such a man do to earn himself that brutal beating?"

"He stole. Or more like _tried_ to steal from him. He was an out-of-towner and didn't know any better."

“That man sounds like he coulda been me,” Jackson chuckled. Indeed, Jackson himself probably would have suffered the same fate as the man, but instead, he was acting as the town's doctor now. It felt bizarre to him to be part of a community again.

* * *

Later that day, they traveled on to the other patients dwellings and treated their afflictions and pains thusly. Jackson took good care explaining to Hobbs as to what was wrong with the patient and how he was going to fix their ailments. The young man nodded his head in awe. He really did have a knack for wanting to learn.

When they finally left the last house, it started to rain. 

"Did we finish moving all the furniture back in?" Jackson asked.

Hobbs paused. “No... I don't think so."

"Shit!"

When the two men arrived back at their temporary lodgings, they found the rain drenching everything they had left outside to clean up the big bloodstain left in the house on the previous day. They hurriedly tried to get some of the dreadfully soggy items indoors.

"It didn't think it was going to rain!”Jackson hissed.

“We should have done this yesterday,” Hobbs groaned as he helped Jackson lift up a large, sturdy wooden table. They moved as many items as they could inside and then proceed to light a fire to help dry them off as they wiped them down with towels.

“This is why I don’t own any nice things myself!” Jackson guffawed after they were finished frantically drying things off. “How many of the items do you think will be salvageable?”

“Well, we got most of the stuff dried off. The wood shouldn’t be warped and the metal items should be fine as well. I’m not sure about some of the more delicate, or cloth items, but we’ll be able to see soon. Fortunately we only left a few books outside so not many of those were ruined.”

“Good that we got the things inside when we did. I can’t believe I didn't even consider the rain!”

“It rains here sporadically a bit more than it does in other places, especially in this season. I should have said something, there were even rain clouds yesterday. Sorry, I’m not very good at this.”

“It’s fine. It’s my fault, really. You may not be good at informing me but you're good at plenty of other things, like being my assistant,” Jackson smiled. He hadn’t had ‘fun’ quite like he was in a long while.

“Thanks, Jackson,” Hobbs smiled back shyly “Thank you also for allowing me to help you today.”

“Not a problem! I don’t mind the _free_ help at all.”

“It’s still early.” Hobbs said hopefully. “Do we have any other patients on the list now?”

“No. We saw everyone already. And I don’t think anybody is going to come to us in the rain.” Hobbs looked sullen and Jackson cleared his throat “Well if you excuse me then, I’d like to try and figure out exactly what kind affliction Mr. Bloom is suffering from. I don’t think it’s serious but It’s been awhile since I’ve had to deal with more common ailments, I must admit.”

“What do you mean?” asked Hobbs.

“To what?” 

“Why has it been awhile since you've dealt with common ailments?”

“Oh, well I haven’t practiced day-to-day medicine in a few years. When I was in the army, they mostly had me cutting off limbs and putting in stitches.”

“You were in the army?”

“What? Reid didn’t brief you on me before you came?”

Hobbs shook his head. “No. He just told me about the shootout the night before and that I had to watch the new doctor for awhile. He also told me that he had you locked up and you two made a deal...that you already tried to escape, too. Nothing about how you were in the army. Why did you leave? Bennet left because he got shot, did anything like that happen to you?”

“No, no, no. I just heard gold calling my name and decided to drop what I was doing and try my luck in the gold rush, is all. I heard tell that men have made their fortunes out here.”

“Have you had much luck so far?”

Jackson paused. “I’ve made enough to keep myself alive this long. I work in mines if I ever get low on cash, which has luckily only happened a few times.”

“So you just travel around looking for gold all day?”

“Yup.”

“By yourself?”

“Damn right,” Jackson said proudly.

“That sounds fun and all, but doesn't that get lonesome sometimes?”

“It does, but I usually have enough extra cash in my shoe for the company of a whore or two every now and then,” Jackson winked.

“What about friends and family? I don’t know what I would do without mine...” 

“Friends and family are people you have to watch out for, cos when you get too comfortable around them, that’s when they turn on you.”

“That’s not how I see it,” Hobbs interjected.

“Well that's how I see it!” 

“Golly. What makes you think in such a way, Mr. Jackson? Did something happen with someone?”

“I think I’ve told you too much already, kid,” Jackson laughed. He needed to change the subject. 

“Go and get me some of the medical books form upstairs, will ya?”

“But there’s some right here?”

“ _Medical_ books from _upstairs_ in the _doctor’s_ room, Hobbs.”

“Ohhhh,” Hobbs said, realizing. “Right I’ll have them right down.”

“Thank you.”

He then returned with books in arm a minute later. 

“This one right here,” Jackson held up a worn blue book with white trim. “I think this is a good one for you to read, if you haven’t already. Good on the basics and such. Foundations, if you will. Study it.”

“Study?”

“You might as well be useful.”

“You’re a good man, Mr. Jackson,” Hobbes grinned.

“Hopefully not too good that Mr. Reid will take my help away from me so soon,” Jackson grinned back.

“Help?”

“Stop repeating things. Fine. Apprentice. _Temporary_ apprentice.”

“Your apprentice? But I’m a police constable...”

“You said that you were interested in learning the medical field and such and I’m the best damn surgeon that the whole of California has to offer. You best be taking advantage of my time here. It couldn’t hurt ya, now could it?”

“I suppose not... but I don’t know if Mr. Reid is intending for me to stay with you that long. Truth be told, he said I would probably be free to leave you alone after 3 days, if it's just between you and me.”

A downcast expression came across Jackson’s face. He strangely liked the young man's company and boundless curiosity. “Then I guess we’ll have to ask Mr. Reid for an extension for your supervision.”

Hobbs scrunched his face in confusion, but then nodded eagerly, bearing an understanding smile.


	4. September 15th, 1849: Part One.

Edmund Reid awoke to the jarring sound of a crowing cock. The damned bird in question belonged to his neighbor and it screeched at the top of its lungs every morning without hesitation or consideration to anyone nearby at all. Reid absolutely hated it. Within seconds of hearing the bird’s cry, he got himself up from his small twin bed, for he could no longer bear its excruciating and constant noise. 

Noticing that it was still dim outside, he lit a candle to illuminate his room, allowing himself to shepherd his wooly-socked feet to the wash basin at the other end of the chamber. He splashed some stagnant cold water onto his face and then proceeded to get dressed for the morning: dressing in his usual three-piece-suit ensemble with his gold sheriff badge pinned to his breast to proudly show off his status.

After finishing his morning ablutions, Reid went outside and locked the door behind him. He strolled across the empty dirt street and glared at the rooster that woke him up every morning as made his way down the road to his Sheriff's station. 

Taking out his ring of keys, he opened up the building and let himself in. His feet were muddied from the previous night’s rainfall so he cleaned his boots at the door before proceeding further into the building. It was cold inside but bearable thanks to his heavy coat that he wore. Still, he decided to light a fire for his men who would come stumbling in from the cold, in a few short hours. 

The building should surely be warmed up by then.

It was earlier than usual, today, for him to have been woken up. Given the week’s events, he really needed _extra_ sleep, not less sleep. But there was nothing he could do about it now. Reid sighed and sat down at his desk, glancing at his pocket watch which read 4:36: too damn early. Paper work seemed like a good time-killer until others walked in.

* * *

Not surprisingly, the second man to come into the station was Drake at 5:15. He was always there as early as Reid, as he was a reliable and punctual sort of man.

“Mornin’ Ed,” Drake called out as he warmed himself by the modest fire Reid had built about an hour earlier. He threw another log onto the blaze, bringing it back to life. It was raining again, and he had been soaked on his walk over to the station.

“Good Morning, Deputy,” Reid replied.

“I think I’m going to brew us some coffee if you don’t mind, Sir?”

“Go right ahead, Bennet. I’m sure the men will appreciate that. I’ll have a cup too when it’s ready.”

Drake soon returned to him sometime later and sat down at Reid’s desk with two mugs of fresh coffee in hand. “Do we have anything that we need to focus on today? Any warrants for arrest?’

“A dispute over some cattle but I’ll send someone else to deal with that. Supposedly sometime this week we’re supposed to have a U.S. Marshal come through. I’d like our priority to be making the town clean and crime free before his arrival. I’ll assign jobs once everyone comes in,” Reid answered.

“Won’t be for another half hour or so ‘till the others will be here. Did you want Hobbs to come in today for his report as well? How’s all that going with him, anyway?”

“The doctor? Oh, I haven’t heard from Hobbs directly but Thatcher told me that he chatted with Hobbs briefly when they ran into one another yesterday. He said that the new doctor was doing fine and didn’t seem like he would escape or try to pull anything. I’d like him to stay and observe the man for a few more days before I make a decision to move him elsewhere, however.”

“There’s something suspicious about that fella, isn’t there?,” Drake mused. “I don’t trust him.”

“I think he’s a good man, but I would have to agree with you to some degree: he can’t be _completely_ trusted, can he? But then again, who can?”

“Why’d you let him take that position then? We could have had a new doctor in by early this week if we needed to.”

“True, we could have had any old doctor in by now, but I wanted a _good_ one. I’ve been sending inquiries, by the way, but haven’t heard back from any person even remotely qualified. Hiring a new doctor isn’t even my job, for Christ’s sake.”

“But why him?”

“There's more to him than meets the eye; call me intrigued. That’s part of the reason I have Hobbs looking after him. As you said, he’s rather suspicious but he seems to know what he’s doing. He’s better than no doctor.”

“I suppose...” Drake conceded.

“I’m willing to give him a chance,” Reid said. “And he could work out permanently, after all. Who knows?”

* * *

The volunteer and paid deputies came rolling into the building soon thereafter. Reid gave a rousing morning speech about why order and law should be kept in their gradually expanding town. He spoke very passionately considering the hour and the dreadful weather outside. The men dispersed and grumbled as they set to work with rainclouds lurching over their heads. The station was now beginning to bustle. Everyone did their job like clockwork; it was to be expected in Reid’s Station, after all. 

Around lunchtime, two tall figures made their way through the streets and to the stationhouse.

“Hobbs is here to see you, Sir,” announced Bobby Grace to Reid. “And he’s brought company.”

“Send them in,” Reid ordered with a wave of his hand.

“Afternoon, Mr. Reid,” Jackson spoke casually, with Hobbs trailing behind him. “I have a proposition for you.”

“Go on with it,” Reid gazed at him with a raised eyebrow. “But I don’t think you’ve been here long enough to make proposals and deals with me _quite_ yet, Doctor.”

“This one’s worth listening too, I promise.”

“What is it?”

Jackson turned and grabbed Hobbs by his shirt sleeve. “You see this boy here? He’s expressed an interest to me in medicine. He’s clever too. He could probably make something of himself.”

“Indeed,” Reid agreed.

“I’d be willing to teach him,” Jackson offered. “Until the new doctor comes in, naturally.”

“Naturally,” Reid nodded. “If I may be so bold: what’s in it for you? Why would you be offering this.” 

“Money,” Jackson half-lied. “Believe it or not, this is a pretty fast and efficient way to make money. And I’m a little low on funds at the moment.”

“Liking the steady flow of cash as our town’s doctor, aren’t you?” Reid chuckled, leaning back in his chair. 

“I would be a fool to turn away such easy money,” Jackson admitted. “But I don’t like staying in the same place for too long. Let's say I’ll stay two months at the most.”

“Two months? Reid repeated, personally shocked the other man had willingly proposed so long. “I thought you just couldn't wait to get out of here.”

“I still can’t. But I’ll be willing to put up with this town for the sake of cash. I was thinking of traveling to the east coast soon and this is the quickest way to afford it.”

“I see... I suppose it would be alright for 2 months only. It could come in handy for the station after all,” he paused. “For the time being, he is still to watch over you. If you do anything that violates our town rules, you are out of here. Understood?”

“Loud and clear.”

“Good. However, before I say yes for sure, I need to check with the Mayor about this. He has the authority over these matters and payroll. I will also be needing Hobbs to report to me weekly on his progress. Furthermore, if we are ever in a state of emergency or there is an important town event, I will also be requiring him.”

“Deal. Sound good to you kid?”

“Y-yeah!”

“The deal is struck then,” Reid shook the drifter’s hand. “I’ll talk to the Mayor sometime this week. He should say yes, of course. It’s more of a formality, but he does, in fact, have final say over employment in this town, even if it’s temporary.”

“Thank you, Sir!” Hobbs piped up. His voice was cracking, holding back tears of happiness. “Thank you so much. I won’t let you down!”

“I’m sure you won’t,” Reid smiled softly at him. “Mr. Jackson, will you please step outside of the office while I talk to Dick.”

Jackson saluted Reid and left the room, but remained lurking close by. He soon found himself pressing his ear close to the thick door.

“What is it, Mr. Reid?” Hobbs started.

“Your report.”

“Oh right!” Hobbs scrambled to get out his work notebook from his breast pocket. “Subject has been treating patients or other medical issues expertly since I've been observing him. He seems very knowledgeable in his area of study and hasn't made an effort to leave yet. He’s nice and friendly to both me and the patients although he is a tad sarcastic at times. He’s rather tidy, knows his way around animals and and can cook eggs well. He only made one concerning comment to me, but otherwise he’s been fine. I also don’t think he's a God fearing man, Sir.”

“That’s fine. What was the disturbing comment of his, however?”

Hobbs blanched. “Oh he made a joke about killing me in my sleep. I don’t think he was serious, much. He seemed to regret it straight away and has treating me very well ever since. Very well,” Hobbs repeated.

“I see. That may have just been a misstep on his part, and may not have been. Be careful. Although, he seems quite eager to stay and teach you now, and I don't think he would ask to teach you and then kill you. Regardless, stay on your guard.” Reid pulled out a small gun and holster from his desk. “Extra protection. Keep this around your ankle at all times in addition to your regular gun. Since you’re a lawman, I don't think he would expect you to keep one there.”

“Alright. Thank you, sir,” Hobbs said appreciatively, as he grabbed the gun and quickly fastened it around his leg. “Anything else?”

“Does the man display any other violent tendencies or have any other vices? If we’re going to have him here for two months, I need to know everything.”

“He doesn’t seem too violent and he’s not scared of blood or intimidated by angry people. In fact, we faced Old Mr. Croker and his broken arm the other day and he didn’t even blink. As for vices, we went to the saloon the first day he was here and he seemed very interested in drinks…and the ladies,” Hobbs confessed with a faint blush.

“Thank you for telling me this, Hobbs. I’m sure that shouldn’t be a problem as long as he or anyone else doesn't go looking for a fight. Keep him out of trouble, you hear?”

Hobbs gave his boss a tiny smile and nod of understanding. 

“That is all for now.”

“Thank you, Sir. Thank you so much.” The boy felt the need to give a quick bow for Reid agreeing to let him work with Jackson. 

It was Reid’s turn to smile now. “It won’t be easy. But you do seem to know more about medical sciences compared to any other man here, besides me of course. It would be helpful to have someone else be knowledgeable in this department in the case of an emergency. Perhaps you can even give me some pointers when you’re done.”

“I won’t let you down, Mr Reid- uh- Sir!”

“I’m sure you won’t.”

Jackson retreated from the door and pretended to be looking at one of the newspaper articles on the wall when Hobbs came out of the office. “Drake was a war hero?” he asked incredulously. “It says right here, _’War Hero Bennet Drake Saves Carriage from Highwaymen_.’ 

“Oh yeah. I guess he was. Rumors say he single handedly killed 15 men in a single evening,” Hobbs answered.

“Is that true?”

“I don’t know. He doesn't talk about these things much. Especially not about his time in the army,” Hobbs shrugged. “But he is a good fighter. The best in the station, I’d say.”

“Even better than the Sheriff Reid?”

“Oh yes!” Hobbs laughed a bit before catching himself. “He could beat Reid up anyday. Our Chief doesn't like to get his hands dirty much. But I heard tell that once he beat up this one guy real bad before I came to work here. Smashed his skull in or something. Or at least that’s the rumor.”

“Wow. You have a lot of rumors around here don't you, kid?”

“Keeps us entertained, I guess,” Hobbs shrugged. “And some of them _are_ actually true, I think!”

“Yeah. I bet they are,” Jackson chuckled.” “You ready to head out now? It's stopped raining.”

“Sure, let’s go. Can we pick up some food from the bakery on the way to celebrate?”

“Of course. I could do with stocking up on some food for the week anyhow.”

* * *

“Hello, Hobbs,” the baker girl smiled as the two walked in.

“Hello to you, too,” Jackson interjected, smiling at the attractive young lady at the counter. Hobbs had already shuffled off to the side of the counter and was averting his eyes to inspect a fresh loaf of bread that Jackson didn’t seem to think was too interesting.

“Oh. Hello, Sir,” the girl blushed. 

“Aren’t you going to introduce me?” Jackson asked.

Hobbs looked up from the bread nervously. “She’s my childhood friend. Name’s Mary.”

“Mary,” Jackson repeated, sizing the girl up. She had brown hair, brown eyes, simple clothes, and a nice smile. “I don’t think we have had the pleasure of meeting yet, Mary.”

“She wasn’t working the last time we came here,” Hobbs blurted out. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You’re _always_ here, Mary.”

“Yes,” she laughed. “The boss was closing up that night because he was doing inventory, that’s why I wasn’t there. I’m quite well, Dick.”

“Right,” Jackson punctuated. “Well i’ll take four bits worth of bread, please.” 

The money was exchanged as well as a few more pleasantries, and then Jackson and Hobbs were off. Hobbs had given Mary quite the lengthy goodbye.

_’Can we pick up some food from the bakery?’_ Really Hobbs? Why didn’t you just say that you wanted to visit your girlfriend? I would have let you,” Jackson teased as soon as they left the shop.

“She’s not my girlfriend!”

“Oh really? So you won’t mind if I asked her out, would you?”

Hobbs stayed silent but his face became red. If it was with anger, embarrassment, nervousness, or realization, Jackson didn’t exactly know.


End file.
